


Sunrise

by NotAMuggleMiss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24947788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAMuggleMiss/pseuds/NotAMuggleMiss
Summary: "It was always those rays of morning’s first light that brought her back to reality."
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson & Harry Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16
Collections: Into the New Millennium





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Into_the_New_Millennium](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Into_the_New_Millennium) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Level One Challenge:  
> Writer's Choice! Writer selects any song released between the years 2000 and 2009 to use as their inspiration.
> 
> Written for Into the New Millennium Flash Fiction Competition hosted in Dumbledore’s Armada. Thank you to my beta, iwasbotwp. 
> 
> Song Title: Sober  
> Artist: P!nk  
> Year: 2008  
> (Optional) Lyric inspiration:
> 
> Ah, the sun is blinding  
> I stayed up again  
> Oh, I am finding  
> That's not the way I want my story to end
> 
> I'm safe  
> Up high  
> Nothing can touch me  
> But why do I feel this party's over?  
> No pain  
> Inside  
> You're my protection  
> But how do I feel this good sober?

It was always those rays of morning’s first light that brought her back to reality. There was something about being blinded by sunshine when you hadn’t gone to bed yet that killed the party vibe, leaving you with regrets. Pansy stumbled as she stepped out of the side street into Diagon Alley and nearly collided with a tall, familiar figure.

“Bloody Hell, Pans! Not Again!” Harry shook his head and slipped an arm around her waist to help keep her upright. “You almost made it a fortnight this time...”

Suddenly feeling very tired, she softly interjected, “Ten days.”

“Never mind. Let’s get you home. Brace yourself.” Harry sighed and held her closer to side-along apparate her back to their flat.

If someone had told her back at school that 10 years after the war, she would be sharing a flat with the Boy Who Lived, she would have tried to check them into St Mungo’s, and yet here she was. Not only that, but he hadn’t given up on her drunk arse yet, no matter how many times she failed to stay sober.

It was always the same. One look into his worried, disappointed green eyes was all it took to remember this wasn’t the girl she wanted to be. Too loud, too brash, too drunk. When she saw herself in the mirror, she would break down, cry, swear it would be the last time.

But sobriety was too quiet, and drinking felt safe. She didn’t have to face herself while the Firewhisky cloaked her senses and the noise from the bar masked her thoughts. Did she even know what she was afraid of? Did she even know who she was? Not really. But she knew it didn’t hurt when she was drinking, so she still went looking in the bottom of another bottle for another moment of invincibility. 

Until it all came crashing down again. And Harry was always there in the morning, as she was spinning out of control, trying to learn to live with her own reflection.

The first time he found her had been an accident. Despite their history, he hadn’t hesitated to pick her up and bring her back to his flat, to keep her safe and let her sleep it off. She’d asked him why, once she was sober, and all he did was shrug and say he’d been there himself, once. Somehow that had been enough for a friendship to form. 

  
  


Pansy retched when they landed and Harry took a moment to vanish her sick before walking her to the loo. She sat on the stool in the corner as he ran the tap water to warm it up and then wiped her face with the warm cloth, soothing away that intangible feeling of filth that clung to her whenever she fell back into her bad habits. 

Some days she felt like his pity project. Some days she wanted to run and forget his kindness, his compassion, and especially his beautiful eyes. She knew she would never be good enough for him, yet she stayed. 

“We need to talk, Pansy.” 

She watched him run his hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact with her. He handed her a vial of sobering potion from the cabinet and watched her drink it before gesturing towards the door.

She walked into her room and motioned for him to follow. She sat on the bed and brought her knees up to rest her chin on them. Harry sat beside her and turned to look at her.

“Before you jump to conclusions, I swear to Merlin I’m not going to abandon you. Okay?” 

Harry reached for her hand at her sharp intake of breath. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he had to say anymore, but she nodded just the same.

“I don’t know how to keep doing this. I don’t know how to help you.”

“I’m not strong enough, Harry,” Pansy whimpered, suddenly terrified this would be the time he turned her away. He had always known what to do before, these weren't his usual words of encouragement.

“I can’t get sober _for_ you! You have to want it badly enough to work for it. You can lean on me when you struggle, but I can’t continue to carry you.” 

Pansy watched his face as he was nearly overcome with emotion and turned away. For the first time in the past four years, she felt guilt for the toll her choices were taking on Harry. 

“Maybe I should go,” she said slowly, the idea only just dawning on her through the numbness she was feeling. “There’s really no reason you should have to carry my burdens. It’s not right.”

Still facing the door, he murmured, “Do you know, Pans, how much it hurts to watch someone you love give up on themselves? Over and over. Like they can’t see their own worth.”

“I’m sorry.” she whispered, her body curling in on itself as though she could somehow shrink to be as small as she felt. 

“Don’t apologize to me! Apologize to yourself! _My_ feelings are just collateral damage.” His voice broke, and he took a steadying breath before continuing. “Look at yourself. You have so much to offer and you just keep throwing yourself away instead.”

Pansy had never really considered that she had anything worthwhile to offer, let alone that someone else might see something in her worth saving. Her parents were the first, but not the last, to make sure she knew she had failed to live up to anyone’s expectations. Not pretty enough, not demure enough, not smart enough, not _anything_ enough. 

And here was Harry, who didn’t expect her to be anything or anyone more than she was. But he clearly wanted better for her than this. No, he wanted her to want better for herself.

Pansy stretched her legs out on either side of him and leaned forward to wrap her arms around his middle, resting her cheek against the side of his back. She could feel him breathe and her tension started to melt away. 

“Thank you.” She thought of everything he had done for her, of everything he meant to her. She was all too aware of where she would be if it wasn’t for him and of just how much she owed him. “You’re a good friend.”

Harry sighed and leaned into her slightly. 

“You know I don’t mean to push you, if you’re not ready-” he faltered.

“Do you still have the contact information for the therapist you found me a while back?” 

Harry tensed, then took a deep breath and wrapped one of his hands around one of hers. “Yes, I do.”

Pansy gave him a gentle squeeze. 

“I have to try, for myself this time.”


End file.
